Ooh La La
by D.B. Rae
Summary: Did you know that Vulcans ran underground 'touch' clubs? Well, now you do. Established K/S.


**AN:** Here's a little itty bitty thing to tide everyone over until I get the next chapter of 'The Vulcan Next Door' up. Inspired, in some cracktastic way, by _Goldfrapp's_ 'Ooh La La'. Don't ask me how my brain worked that one out, I couldn't tell you. Overt sexy!times within. Turn back now if that's not your thing.

This was beta'd by the lovely notboldly50295. All remaining mistakes are mine.

* * *

Spock hid beneath the cowl of his cloak and the cover of night as he waited for Jim to arrive. Their time on New Vulcan had stretched from the original estimate of eight days to nineteen, the council meetings lingering interminably with each disagreement and compromise that arose between the Federation and the High Council. At the close of today's session Spock estimated that it was highly probable that a satisfactory agreement would not be reached for at least another week. It was a distressing thought.

Between Jim's communications with the Federation negotiators, the demands of social etiquette enforced by the council, and Sarek's insistence that Spock reside with him while Jim took up lodging at the Federation's embassy during the length of their stay, they had not had a single moment of privacy with each other since beaming down to the planet. Tonight, Spock was determined to rectify that situation.

This forced abstinence was the longest they had endured since the onset of their relationship 7.29 months prior. In consideration of his human mate, Spock had made concessions for Jim's libido, eschewing many Vulcan tenets in the privacy of their quarters to guarantee the health and happiness of his partner. It was not unusual for them to engage in some form of sexual activity at least once a day, sometimes more. To be fair, the Vulcan definition of sexual activity also included the simple act of skin-to-skin contact, something that Jim seemed to crave as a way to reassure himself of their connection. It was not uncommon for Jim to caress Spock's cheek or stroke his hand in the turbolift or in a quiet corridor.

The fact that he himself had become accustomed to the frequency of their encounters was something of an unpleasant shock. On their seventh day on the planet Jim had cornered him in the breezeway connecting the council chambers to the embassy. The area was deserted but for them and Jim had reached forward with two fingers extended. Spock had felt his heart thump noticeably against his side, his hand rising to meet Jim's, their fingers mere centimeters apart when a door opened and their solitude was disrupted. The rueful grin on Jim's face was dichotomous to the flash of heated irritation that suffused Spock at the disruption.

The remainder of the day passed with Spock fluctuating between frustration at the loss of opportunity and restless anxiousness as he sought a moment alone with Jim to no avail. That evening, lying alone in his bed, it occurred to him that Jim had accepted the situation and was dealing with it as his station dictated. He should be pleased at his captain and mate's show of maturity, but instead he gritted his teeth and ground his erection into the coarse cotton of his bed sheet until he came with an unsatisfied grunt.

This would not do.

It took him three days to recall a hidden memory from his youth, a memory supplied by T'Pring in a bid to cause Spock emotional distress. He believed it may prove to be the answer to his dilemma. He could not jeopardize relations between New Vulcan and the Federation by joining Jim in his room or inviting Jim to stay with him. Either action would be viewed as supporting one delegation over the other. As they had not yet announced their altered status, any sign of impropriety could also warrant possible negative consequences toward Jim and effect his captaincy of the _Enterprise_.

There was really only one solution.

It had taken another four days to find someone specific to the memory, to procure the necessary information and prepare an excuse and alibi for their upcoming absence. It was fortunate that Ambassador Spock sympathized with his unstated yet, for his older self, obvious problem, and he agreed to host Spock and Jim for a late dinner, a dinner which they would not attend. And now, nineteen days into their forced separation, Spock anticipated Jim's touch and knew he would receive it.

He did not know the precise moment when Jim's touch had become essential, he only knew now that it was. The stroke of a hand, the caress of lips, the shifting of bodies sated with release; all of it was crucial in order to maintain his mental equilibrium. He had felt unsteady the last few days, his rein over his temper fluctuating wildly and his arousal overcoming him at inopportune moments. It had become increasingly difficult to suppress the sudden erections that occurred whenever Jim stood close or offered an affectionate smile.

A shuffle of footsteps sounded behind Spock and he turned to watch Jim approach, his face concealed within the cloak Spock had requested he wear. Spock felt arousal flare within him at the sight of Jim's familiar gait, the sensual sway of hips that was unmistakable despite the heavy, draping fabric. It took every ounce of his Vulcan training to refrain from reaching out, from touching and claiming Jim right there in the courtyard where anyone could see. With a strength of will he hadn't thought he'd possessed, Spock turned and headed into the city, knowing that Jim would follow.

The colony had grown much in the four years since its initial settlement. Though it was a fourth of the size that Shi'Kahr had been, the new capitol city boasted many new buildings and successful businesses. It was because of this growth that their destination existed at all. From what little intel he had been able to gather, it was only in the last ten months that _Esta-avon _opened its doors and resumed its underground operations within the city proper. From the information T'Pring had thrust upon him during his time at the academy, Spock knew that a variation of this club had existed on Vulcan-that-was since at least his late teens and—from the high ranking faces he had recognized within T'Pring's mind—he had postulated that it had existed for even longer than that.

It had been a shock to him, indeed, when the first images began to trickle into his mind during an academy lecture. He had become aroused by the visions filling his mind and had been unable to fight off the new sensations spreading through his body. In that regard, T'Pring had succeeded. He had definitely responded physically to the stimulation and emotionally as well at the sight of so many familiar faces that had often degraded his humanity consorting in such behavior that was anathema to all that Vulcans were supposed to be, or so he had been led to believe.

Spock turned quickly down a narrow pass-way between two buildings and descended steep steps that were cut into the rock bed. Darkness swallowed them abruptly and Spock felt a hand clasp the back of his cloak. He slowed his pace to allow Jim to follow safely even though his heart quickened as they drew nearer to their destination and he had to fight the urge to break into a run in order to close the gap faster. The steps ended abruptly and Spock had to blink into the total darkness for a few moments before his eyes detected a faint light emanating from his left.

The light became more evident as they approached it and Spock could see that they were literally underground, the stone ceiling hanging approximately four inches above his head. In the dim, red glow he could see a door offset in the shadows with a crude depiction of a flame crested by a wave etched into the stone facing. A small keypad rested beside the door and Spock entered the hexadecimal code he had been provided with and stepped back when the heavy, stone door recessed and slid aside to allow them entry.

They crossed the threshold and stood in darkness until the door closed behind them and triggered another to open before them, spilling red-orange light into the foyer from what looked like a coatroom. Spock approached the counter, removing his cloak in the process. He suppressed a smile at Jim's quite gasp as his wardrobe became visible. He knew Jim appreciated his body in casual clothing, especially the dark, tightly-fitted blue jeans Jim had purchased for him on their last shore leave and the gray t-shirt he had stolen from Jim several months back with the faded words 'Riverside, Iowa' arced across the front.

His own eyes flashed with lust as Jim removed his cloak, revealing his muscular body in tight jeans and a snug white t-shirt. He approved of Jim's clothing choice; he had been unsure if his request that Jim refrain from wearing his uniform would result in something stimulating to his senses, as they had not planned to attend any casual social gatherings while at the colony. Spock passed his credit chip to the indifferent Vulcan behind the counter and nodded at the clerk's question regarding full accommodations. They concluded the transaction in Vulcan and once Spock had pocketed his credit chip and a small digital code-key another door opened and they were surrounded with sound, heat and the heavy musk of arousal.

His nostrils flared as he inhaled the intoxicating scent and Spock gripped Jim's wrist and weaved through a sea of writhing bodies, unaware of the stares their presence drew. They sidled up to the bar and Spock ordered their drinks without meeting Jim's curious gaze. Two tumblers appeared before them and Spock handed Jim his whisky sour and took up his own beverage before he led Jim to a small table in a secluded corner. Once they were settled comfortably, Spock turned his full attention to Jim and sipped from his drink, relishing the heat burning down his throat that mingled with the flames his desire for Jim stoked within him.

"A sex club? A Vulcan sex club? What other secrets are you bastards hiding? You have kink shops hidden down here too?" Jim grinned widely at Spock, his eyes sparkling with amusement and a spark of fire Spock hadn't seen in too long.

"Vulcans have many secrets, Jim." Spock took another sip of his drink and turned his attention to the crowded room, seeing nothing but the haze of red that had overcome him when he had touched Jim's wrist. His body ached to make contact with Jim's but he found he was suddenly enjoying the anticipation, enjoyed the flutter of his heart in his side, the thrum of blood rushing through his veins, the throb of his cock against the rough material of his jeans. It was reminiscent of their first physical encounter when they had touched fingers accidentally during a chess game. The air had become instantly charged, neither withdrawing from the contact, their eyes intent on the other, each waiting for the next step to be taken.

It was Jim, of course it was Jim, who had taken that step by entwining their fingers together which had elicited a full body shiver to move through Spock's frame, his eyes shutting at the intensity of the touch. When he had opened his eyes again it was to see Jim climbing onto his lap and closing the distance between their mouths. Spock had had limited sexual experience then and had deferred to Jim, had continued to defer to Jim due to his Vulcan upbringing and inexperience.

Tonight that would change.

"I thought Vulcans didn't drink?" Jim motioned to Spock's glass with his own.

"We do not consume alcohol as it has no effect due to our differing metabolisms. This, however, is a blend of the durjior berry used in Vulcan port and the kaksa seed which is similar in many ways to the Terran cocoa bean."

"Are you telling me that you can get drunk from chocolate?" Jim said in such a way as to call 'bullshit'.

"No. The amount of chocolate that would need to be consumed to attain even the slightest effect would be extremely vast. The kaksa seed on the other hand, once crushed and fermented, is extremely potent. This glass, for instance, is equivalent to 175 proof Terran alcohol. And no, you may not sample it as I have plans for this evening that do not include carrying your unconscious body back to the embassy."

Jim sputtered into his drink and wiped at his face, laughing up at Spock in shock.

"Plans? And what kind of plans has my little Vulcan come up with for this evening?"

"Finish your drink, Jim. All will be revealed in time." He was mildly surprised when Jim leaned back in his seat and did just that. They sat in companionable silence, sipping from their glasses and gazing out at the dance floor. It was only then that Spock became truly aware of their surroundings and the furtive glances cast in their direction. It took all of four seconds for the reason for the attention to become clear. Jim was the only non-Vulcan in the entire establishment and was therefore both a curiosity and a concern.

Jim's identity was well known throughout the colony and no doubt the presence of a human, Starfleet captain inside the inner sanctum of Vulcan's clandestine underground was discomforting to many. Spock lowered his shields and immediately picked up unease from the crowd and arousal from the man beside him. Never before had the Terran phrase 'to kill two birds with one stone' seemed so appropriate. With sudden decisiveness Spock tipped back his glass and emptied it before looking pointedly at Jim who quickly drained his own glass.

They left the table and stepped onto the dance floor in perfect sync with each other's movements. Without hesitating Spock pulled Jim against him and began to move in time to the pulsing beat that filled the air. His hands settled on Jim's hips, enabling him to grind deliciously against his t'hy'la as his lips sought the sensitive flesh behind Jim's ear. Strong hands ran up his arms and gripped his shoulders before tangling in his hair to pull him closer.

"Jesus, I missed you." Jim whispered into his ear before mouthing the pointed tip.

Spock insinuated a knee between Jim's legs and pressed his thigh against Jim's erection. Greedy hands grasped Jim's ass to pull him closer as he shifted his hips to press his cock against Jim and moaned at the friction of denim rubbing against his flesh. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough. His hands burrowed under soft cotton to smooth over the taunt muscles of Jim's back. Spock dropped his shields to absorb Jim's essence and jerked spasmodically as a powerful wave of lust swamped his senses. His teeth bit into the corded muscle of Jim's neck before he soothed the tender flesh with the swipe of his tongue.

He shivered against Jim when he felt warm palms smoothing over his exposed skin, then a hand was tugging at his arm, gliding down tingling flesh to entwine with his own fingers. A wet mouth settled on his knuckles, nibbling, sucking, licking and Spock felt his knees threaten to buckle. Suddenly, a strong arm wrapped around his waist, a hand clenching into the fabric of his shirt to hold him in place.

"T'hy'la." Spock breathed the endearment, capable of nothing more with his lungs struggling just to obtain much needed oxygen. Jim always stole his breath, some days he thought he would die with the strength of his reactions to his mate, illogical as the idea was.

A hand stole down the back of his pants and he felt Jim freeze against him.

"Fuck. Where is your underwear?"

Spock felt Jim's cock throb against his thigh and cast a frantic glance around the room until he found the dimly lit hallway he was searching for. Without answering, Spock bit at Jim's lips before disentangling them enough to tow Jim behind him as he cut across the dance floor, flashed the plastic card he had purchased to the Vulcan guarding the entrance and stalked down the corridor until he came to the numbered door matching the number on his card. With a swipe of the card the door slid open and Spock pushed Jim into the room, his hands immediately tugging the shirt from Jim's body to reveal an expanse of luscious skin.

Hands were everywhere at once, and Jim pulled at Spock's shirt and tossed it to the floor while Spock undid Jim's pants and slid them and the boxers beneath down to pool at Jim's feet. He swooped in to claim Jim's swollen lips again as his own jeans slid down his legs and strong hands gripped his ass and squeezed. With calculated force, Spock shoved at Jim's shoulders until he toppled backward onto the bed and bent to quickly remove their shoes and socks and pants before crawling up over Jim, dragging his body against the one beneath him.

"Fuck. So hot. Come here. Let me touch you." Jim stroked his palms over Spock's abdomen, up to his chest, and then threaded his fingers through the hair concealing hardened, green-tinged nipples.

"Jim. Ashayam." Spock pressed his body down reveling in the extent of skin-to-skin contact, pleasure spreading through him as he tangled his hands through Jim's hair and claimed his mouth with fervor. Jim's hands caressed his shoulders and back, traced lines against his thighs and dipped into the crevice of his ass.

"_Jim!" _Spock ground his pelvis down and the feel of his cock pressing against Jim's nearly sent him over the edge. He sat back and hooked one of Jim's legs around his arm before settling against Jim again and he began thrusting in earnest. His cock was leaking pre-come over both of them, allowing for a slick slide of skin against skin. He pressed down harder and rotated his hips, the bed creaking under the pressure of their writhing bodies as Jim groaned low in his throat, his hands once more gripping Spock's ass to clasp them closer together.

"Don't stop. Don't fucking stop. Oh God!" Jim clenched his body and arched off the bed as his orgasm slammed through him.

The feel of Jim's seed splashing hotly against his skin, of fingers gripping him hard enough to leave bruises he would feel for days sent Spock over the precipice, lost in roaring sound, blinding light and a terribly exhilarating crush of love that poured out of his skin into Jim.

Awareness came to him slowly, and Spock realized he still held Jim's leg in the crook of his arm. Sluggishly, he released his hold and felt Jim's leg slide down his side and over his buttocks to wrap over his own leg. He knew he had to be crushing Jim with his full weight pressing against him but couldn't find it in himself to move. When Jim's hands began to caress the length of his back he decided Jim didn't mind and nuzzled into Jim's neck, breathing in the scent of his satiated mate.

"Not that I'm complaining, but where the hell did that come from?"

Spock smiled against Jim before wrapping his arms around him.

"I missed you."

It was really as simple as that.

The end.

Esta-avon: Touch hunger


End file.
